Page 12 of Storm Warning
“Do you hire all people the same way you hired me or is this time going to be different?”
“Hiring you was luck, though your coffee making skills still suck,” I snicker. “But really, I can’t imagine getting another BFF out of this shop, so I am going to just be blunt and do my best to weed out the bad options quickly, and not just hire someone because they have a pulse.”
“Blunt? Not you.”
The bell chimes, pulling us out of our fit of laughter. A girl stands just inside the doorway, a look of annoyance on her face as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt.
She’s got this edgy, punk look that totally works for her. Her neon striped extensions pop out against her dark, heavily layered haircut and light eyes, and while I’m normally not an eyebrow piercing fan, she totally rocks it. Whereas, I normally like a little color to my clothes, this girl is drenched in black. She wears a black graphic t-shirt with a graffiti-styled sad face on it and a pair of loose, ripped black jeans, a chain that dangles from the pocket, and Vans. Aside from her hair, the only color she wears is the blood red tattoo choker around her neck. Honestly, I love it. It just lacks sparkle.
“Hey,” she speaks low, but sounds annoyed. “I’m here for the interview.”
I remove the blank stare from my face. "Oh, yeah, please take a seat and I’ll grab your resume."
I rush back to my office. I probably, no, definitely should have had this all ready to go so that I looked a bit more professional. Grabbing the pile of resumes off my desk, I hurry back to the table and take a seat across from her. “Molly, right?” Looking down at the papers, I already know she’s the one that will be on the top of the stack since I ordered them by the time slots I gave them.
“Yes, uh, before we begin I would like to request no mornings or weekends if you hire me.” She blows her bubblegum and it pops as she gives me an indifferent stare.
Fuck. We really are not off to a great start with this one.
I know without having a mirror in sight that my expression shows exactly what I think about what she just said, so I speak my mind. “Um, you do realize this is a coffee shop and that most people choose to consume their coffee before noon, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll just take second shift…or whatever.” She doesn’t look me in the eye, but instead picks at her chipped black nail polish.
Really? She can’t even give me the time of day. She does know how interviews work…right?
“Oh-kayy.” I draw out my response as I try to remind myself to give her a chance. “You don’t have any previous coffee shops down in your work history. Are you familiar with espresso machines or maybe baking, since we do offer a small selection of treats as well?”
“Uh, no. I don’t really want to get dirty.”
"Alright," I huff, biting back a sarcastic response. She doesn’t want to work mornings or weekends. She doesn’t want to get dirty. So why in the hell did she apply for this job? I swear, it’s like people want to get paid just for breathing. A part of me—the loud-mouthed, takes-no-shit part of me—wants to tell her off for wasting my time. But since there’s a chance others will be worse than her, I choose not to.
“Do you like working with customers? How are you with handling cash?” My tone is laced with frustration, but how couldn’t it be?
“I’m okay with people, I guess.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, the look in her eyes almost challenging.
Right, she’s about as good with people as a box of rocks.
I turn back to look at Daisy, raising my eyebrows in a silent plea. I’m about to lose my shit on this girl. Daisy’s gaze issympathetic as she shakes her head, her shoulders rising then falling in a dramatic shrug. Like she silently agrees she doesn’t know what to do.
“What would you say is a quality you bring to a job atmosphere? Are you a good team player?” I toss her one last chance, practically throwing an entire life ring her way by feeding her a good answer with my follow up question.
She leans deeper into her chair and lets out a groan. “Listen, I like money, my friends like coffee. I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone here. We get a discount, right? Or, like, all you can drink perks that I can roll over to my friends?”
She’s got to be fucking kidding, right?
Are all of the interviews going to be like this? No, there has to be a good one in here somewhere. Taking a deep breath, I decide to turn a new leaf.
Think positive, Kaylee.
It’s the first interview, they can only get better. At least, I hope. I stand up with a great, big smile on my lips and extend my hand out. “Thank you so much for coming in today, Molly. If we decide to move forward, you will receive a call later this week.”
She stands up and furrows her brow, undoubtedly shocked by the fast end to this interview, and shakes my hand. “Thanks, I look forward to receiving your call.”
It takes everything in me not to answer:Don’t.
The second she turns away, I roll my eyes as I watch her walk out the door.
I swing my body toward the counter, relieved to finally get to speak my mind. “This is a goddamn coffee shop, not a bar, of course mornings are a requirement, and I’m not sure any service place in this town isn’t open on the weekends.” Irritation intertwines within every word I say.
